


room 26

by misura



Category: The Rock (1996)
Genre: Multi, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-20
Updated: 2012-12-20
Packaged: 2017-11-21 18:55:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/601023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Mason shrugged. "You offered me clothes. I simply couldn't decide which shirt went best with my eyes."</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	room 26

**Author's Note:**

  * For [liz_mo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/liz_mo/gifts).
  * Translation into 中文 available: [26号房间](https://archiveofourown.org/works/633095) by [styx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/styx/pseuds/styx)



> a treat, because this movie and these characters give me all the ~feelings.
> 
> basically Plotlessness Without Porn.

"Aargh," Stanley said, because, well, aargh.

"Ooh," Carla said, because - wait, what? "Did you get me a surprise stripper, Stan?"

"Thank you," Mason said, because of course it was Mason. And it would have been fine, really; Stanley had nothing against the man - quite liked him, in fact, but 'quite liked him' did not equal 'wanted to find him in his hotel room stark naked'. "That is to say: yes and no."

One thing Stanley'd learned on the job: talk and think at the same time. "That is to say: _definitely_ no." Talk sense, and let your mind do the gibbering - or, in this case, the enjoying of the view.

It wasn't that Mason looked good for his age. It was that Mason looked good, period.

"Ah. Of course." Mason smiled at Carla. It was, Stanley realized with a sinking sense of dread, a nice, friendly smile. A _conspirational_ smile. _'That Stanley, eh?'_ that smile said. _'Acting all innocent, when really, who_ does _he think he's fooling?'_

"He's not a stripper - "

" - but it's very kind of you to think so. I'm flattered."

" - and, in fact, he's just leaving," Stanley said. "Right now. This very moment."

"Stanley. Stanley, Stanley, Stanley." Mason shook his head. "Never, ever give a woman the impression you are cheating on her. Not to worry ... Carla, isn't it? While his actions may not be giving you this impression, I have, in fact, not slept with your fiance."

" _Thank_ you," Stanley said. "So glad we got that cleared up."

"Yet," Mason said.

" _What?_ " Stanley felt that really should have been Carla's line, not his.

Well, his, _too_ , maybe. A kind of shared outrage at this ... this crazy, sexy, naked guy who'd let himself into their hotel room. Stanley felt there really was too much ogling and smiling going on here, and not nearly enough yelling - or dressing, for that matter.

"I have," Carla said. "It's really fun."

"Ah." Mason nodded wisely, as if she'd just confirmed what he'd guessed all along.

"I told you you could come in here and get some clothes," Stanley said. "Not stick around and - "

"Please note that your fiance has just admitted to aiding and abetting a man wanted by various agencies whose names consist of three-lettered acronyms," Mason told Carla. "Should he ever be foolish enough to break things off, that should definitely get you the house _and_ the dog. At the very least."

"What are you _doing_ here?"

Mason shrugged. "You offered me clothes. I simply couldn't decide which shirt went best with my eyes."

"I have pants! I have - "

"- socks!" Carla said.

"Socks. Yes," Stanley said, grateful for some support at last. "There are towels, in the bathroom."

"You could have worn a sock on your - you know. So it wouldn't get cold."

"Right," Stanley said, his brains still comfortably disconnected from his mouth. "So it wouldn't - _Carla_!"

"No, no," Mason said. "It's good advice. Although I do wonder: wouldn't it get itchy?"

"Only if it's wool, I think. Should I take my shirt off?"

"It might give Stanley the right idea," Mason said. "Only if you want to, of course. My original plan was dinner. I seem to have come into some money, recently."

" _Naked_ dinner?" Stanley asked - nice and pointedly, he thought.

Carla squeaked. Mason arched an eyebrow. "Why, Stanley."

"Not a suggestion," Stanley said quickly.

"All right. Dressed dinner."

"Naked dinner," Carla said decisively. "And I want dessert, after."

Mason looked amused. "It would appear the lady has made up her mind."

"It would appear she has." Carla being bossy was definitely a turn-on. Then again, Carla doing pretty much anything at all was sort of a turn-on.

Mason stopped looking amused. "Stanley. If this is a problem - you've played it straight with me. I - "

"Shut up and tell me how to do this," Stanley said.

Mason relaxed slightly. "You do realize - "

"That if you actually shut up, you can't tell me anything? Yeah. But thanks for pointing it out."

"Touchy."

Carla took her shirt off. She was wearing a bra - nothing fancy or anything. "Oh, he's got all sorts of sensitive spots. If you ask me nicely, I'll even tell you where they are. Well, some of them."

"I'll be sure to do so."

Stanley felt his face heat up. It was probably because he was a little overdressed. Certain ... other parts of his body were feeling like they'd appreciate a bit less clothes as well.

"What about _your_ sensitive spots, huh?"

"You know, after all this time, I'm afraid it may have completely slipped my mind where they are."

A likely story, coming from the man who had memorized the blueprints for his escape out of Alcatraz - and was still able to recall them a good many years later.

"Guess we'll have to help your memory along a bit, then."

"I have faith that you will do a quite ... thorough job."

"Oh, Stanley's always very thorough," Carla said - and that was quite flattering, really. "Provided he doesn't get a call from work in the middle of things." Little less flattering, that.

"Does that happen often?" Mason speculatively eyed the phone.

"It's my job!" Stanley said. "They don't call me for just anything, you know."

Carla scowled. "Training exercises."

"They're important!" Stanley protested. "And, may I remind you: occasionally actual, real-life, real-danger crises."

"Two in one week seems rather unlikely, don't you think?" Mason disconnected the phone.

Stanley decided to count it as a win that at least the phone was still whole, and functional. He'd simply have to remember to plug it in again at some later point in time.

"Are you, perhaps, in need some assistance with your shirt?" Mason asked.

Possibly, it would be prudent to write it down. Just in case. "I'm good."

"Dressed, I believe the correct term is," Mason said. "And ... the only one in that state. Which would seem to make you - "

" - our designated dinner guy," Carla said.

"I was going to say 'overdressed', but yes, I do suppose we'd need someone to order and then accept the food." And pay for it, presumably, although Stanley couldn't say he particularly cared about that part, right now.

"Just order me something that's good here."

"Make that two somethings, thank you."

"And some wine."

"A cup of coffee for me, please."

 _'No tea?'_ Stanley managed not to ask, because he knew all about stereotypes. "Got it."

"And hurry it up, or we'll start without you."


End file.
